A Shot in the Dark
by MuffinLove03
Summary: When tragedy strikes and lives are at stake, the time to lay your emotions on the line comes swiftly. After all this time, the tables have turned and it seems Arnold knows now how unrequited love feels. But is it really unrequited? And by the time he musters up the courage to tell her, will it be too late?
1. Chapter 1

**[A/N: Well, this will be my first time working on TWO stories at the same time! WHAT IS THIS MADNESS? I dunno. But I was feeling inspired and decided to go for it. I've had this idea for a LONG time and finally decided to start working on it. I hope you all enjoy it and please let me know what you think! There is a LOT that's gonna go down! If you know me, you know: There is DRAMA afoot! Read on, my dearies.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold]**

A biting wind whipped past Helga and into the lobby of Hillwood High as she sought cover from the bitter cold. Winter was at its peak and the frigid temperatures were unrelenting. Helga stomped on the rug to shed the caked snow that had accumulated during her walk. She'd missed the bus this morning and, figuring she was already going to be late, stopped at a local café to get a coffee on the way. Of course, by the time she'd gotten to school, the beverage had cooled significantly and no longer enticed her so she chucked it in the nearest trashcan.

It was the middle of junior year of high school and not very much had changed. Just about all of her old friends (assuming you could call all of them _"friends"_) were at Hillwood High, albeit in different classes. Helga had grown up quite a bit over the years and, while she certainly wasn't a very "popular" girl, she'd gotten to a point where she could at least _tolerate_ her peers. For the most part.

Big Bob and Miriam were still just as absent as they'd always been, though Miriam had been toying with the idea of attending Alcoholics Anonymous. At least, that's what Olga had been hoping for – over the past year, she'd actually been working to coax Miriam into some form of therapy or rehab after Miriam totaled the car. Olga was going to school a couple hours away while she worked on her third Master's degree. She wasn't married yet, though. Somehow, no man could ever fully… _handle _Olga.

Good old Hillwood. Just about everyone was still the same as they'd always been.

Helga came to her locker and dropped her backpack to the floor as she fussed with her combination lock. The halls were somewhat deserted considering class had started 45 minutes prior but Helga honestly couldn't say she cared. With her locker open, she pulled out what she needed in exchange for her backpack which she stuffed unceremoniously into the bottom, then slammed the locker door shut. Just as she had clicked the combination lock in place again and turned the knob, an irritatingly familiar voice echoed from behind her.

"Ms. Pataki, I see you're late. Once again," Principal Wartz stood tapping his foot, hands on his hips.

Helga turned around slowly and offered a pathetic attempt at an apologetic smile. "It seems I am…" She shrugged. "Well, that just sucks, huh?"

"Watch your tone, young lady," Wartz warned, his brow furrowed. "You know the drill," And he pointed down the hall in the direction of the Main Office.

"Right," Helga pointed at him briefly, acknowledging his instruction before turning and heading to the Office for a late pass.

There were a few other students in there for the same reason and Helga stood in line to accept her pass.

"Name?" The head secretary asked without ever looking up at her.

"Helga Pataki,"

"And your classroom?"

"405. Mrs. Soracoe,"

The secretary finished scribbling on a small notepad and ripped the top sheet off, handing it to Helga who then adjusted her books in one arm and headed to what was left of her first class.

. . . . . . . .

"—and that's due on the following Tuesday,"

Helga came into the classroom just as Mrs. Soracoe had been explaining the upcoming assignments in their British Literature class. She did her best to enter discreetly and slinked past the first row of desks before Mrs. Soracoe turned and spotted her.

"Well, glad to see you could join us today, Ms. Pataki," Mrs. Soracoe said in a disapproving tone. "Your late slip?"

"Yeah," Helga muttered as she reached over a few classmates to hand the paper to her.

Mrs. Soracoe continued talking about the details of the next piece of literature they would be reading and Helga found her seat in one of the middle desks on the left-hand side of the room.

"Hey," Curly greeted her as she got herself situated at her desk. She and Curly had become pretty good friends over the years. They'd found an unexpected common ground when he had stumbled upon Helga's secret obsession with Arnold in the sixth grade. Granted, Helga preferred to keep those embarrassing memories buried with the past; her locket, her poetry books, and oh, those god-awful shrines...

"Hi Curly," Helga sighed. She was still feeling a bit grumpy due to lack of sleep but managed a half-smile for her friend. Despite Helga's success at moving past her obsession with Arnold, Curly hadn't been so fortunate when it came to Rhonda. He was still head-over-heels for her and longed for the moment she would finally give him the time of day.

In truth, Helga felt a little sorry for Curly.

. . . . . . . .

On the opposite side of the room, Arnold couldn't concentrate. He'd been staring off dreamily for approximately fifteen minutes and Gerald had taken notice of his best friend's absent-minded doodling.

"Hey man, snap out of it," Gerald whispered, elbowing Arnold in the side and jolting him out of his daze.

"Hey!" Arnold yelped a little too loudly and everyone turned to him briefly before Mrs. Soracoe carried on with her lecture. "What did you do that for?" Arnold whispered back, a bit harshly.

"Look at your freakin' notebook, Arnold!" Gerald jabbed a finger at one of Arnold's doodles – one of many elaborate hearts that were scattered all over the page. "You wanna tell me what's goin' on or are you just gonna leave a brotha hangin' while you go off in La-La-Land?"

"Oh," Arnold looked down at the page and realized he'd been scribbling all over the page, leaving little room for actual notes. "I guess I wasn't paying attention,"

"Ya _think?_" Gerald asked, still keeping his voice hushed. "You're sprung if I _ever_ saw it, man,"

Arnold darted a glance over to the other side of the room again and that was all the confirmation Gerald needed.

"Man, this has gotta stop. Either say something about it or leave it alone. But Arnold, you've _got _to stop _droolin' _all over the place,"

Arnold furrowed his eyebrows, "I wasn't _drooling_," His expression softened. "Besides, she's dating Sid. He's one of our really good friends – I couldn't do that to him…"

"Well, you better figure somethin' out, buddy cuz all of this—" Gerald motioned emphatically at Arnold, indicating his behavior. "—isn't gonna fly. Not for long. You don't even have to tell me what's on your mind and I already know. Can't say I _agree _with it, but I definitely understand. I never thought these words would ever come outta my mouth but Helga's gotten –"

"_Gerald!_" Arnold tried to hush him. He didn't really want to say her name, in case anyone overheard. Plus he knew Gerald would be painfully blunt about how Helga had… filled out… over the years. She still had very thick eyebrows but over the years they had naturally thinned out. She was tall and slender with curves at the hips that a lot of guys had started taking notice of when they got to high school.

"I'm just sayin'!" Gerald threw his hands up, warding off Arnold's reprimand.

As Arnold relaxed, thinking that was the end of the conversation, Gerald added under his breath, "Never seen an ass like that on a white girl…"

Arnold shot Gerald an incredulous look and Gerald struggled to stifle his laughter.

. . . . . . . .

Helga had "B" lunch which meant she had the second lunch shift. The only companions she typically had during this period of her day were Curly and Phoebe. As she made her way through the throngs of "A" lunch students exiting the cafeteria, she found an empty table and reserved two of the seats for her friends who showed up shortly thereafter.

Phoebe set her lunchbox down on the tabletop with a demure sense of grace and smiled at Helga. They'd remained best friends throughout the years and Phoebe had really appreciated the change in Helga. She was still pretty abrasive but no longer as bossy and self-serving as she had been when they were kids.

"How are you today, Helga?" Phoebe questioned as she opened her thermos, taking a sip of green tea.

"Well, I woke up late and missed the bus so that was fun…" Helga replied sarcastically.

"I believe a more effective alarm clock would solve that problem," Phoebe suggested as she delicately unwrapped her sandwich.

Helga chuckled, "Yeah, I guess the drunk one isn't really cutting it, huh?"

"Hey guys," Curly smiled as he set his lunch-tray down at the table. "What's up?"

"Curly, do you believe you're ready for the history exam Mr. Lakenpaul has prepared for us next week?" Phoebe inquired conversationally.

"We have a history exam?" Curly raised an eyebrow at her as he began to open his milk carton.

Helga jerked a thumb in his direction, speaking to Phoebe, "I guess that answers your question,"

It was at that moment that Wolfgang appeared behind Curly and snatched the milk carton out of his hand.

"Hey!" Curly turned around quickly and stood up from his seat. However, at 5'5", he stood powerless next to a 6 foot tall Wolfgang.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Wolfgang feigned an apologetic tone as he turned to two of his friends, also seniors, that stood behind him. "Does this belong to you?"

"Just give it back, Wolfgang," Helga glared at him.

"Sure thing," Wolfgang smirked as he dumped the entire carton of milk on Curly's head, then threw his own head back with hateful laughter. "Oh, that was priceless," He walked off with the other seniors and Curly sat back down.

"Here, Curly," Phoebe took some napkins from her lunchbox and handed them to him.

Helga hated the way everyone treated Curly. After elementary school, Curly's eccentric and "dorky" ways were treated with a lot more hostility than they ever had been before.

Curly accepted the napkins and removed his glasses, setting them down on the table quite calmly and wiping his face. Milk still dripped from his jet-black hair and his T-shirt was splotched with wet patches but he didn't seem to be wholly concerned. This wasn't exactly the first time something like this had happened.

"You okay, Curly?" Helga asked.

Curly nodded, "I guess I should go clean up,"

He stood up slowly and started to walk toward the exit. As he did, he turned and looked back at the table. Helga and Phoebe had such pitiful looks on their faces. Meanwhile, at a table farther over, Wolfgang and his friends were still watching him, laughing. That's when he caught notice of Rhonda sitting at the next table over. She looked him up and down but her expression was unreadable. Or maybe it was just indifference. But when she turned away, Curly saw her smirk and then giggle in response to a comment from another girl.

With a sigh of defeat, Curly trudged out of the cafeteria and made his way to the boy's room.

. . . . . . . .

"Hey sexy," Sid purred as Helga came around the corner after lunch.

"Oh god, don't call me that," Helga narrowed her eyes at him but relaxed when he smiled and pulled her toward him.

Sid had "C" lunch and they usually met here in the hallway as Helga was leaving and Sid was arriving. They had only been together for a couple of weeks and the shock of their new relationship still had a few jaws resting on the floor. Sid had had a crush on Helga for the past year and despite her long-standing resistance, he hadn't been dissuaded from pursuing her. It had taken a while, but she'd finally agreed to allow him to take her on a date. She figured it couldn't hurt and she would let him down gently after humoring him just once but she'd actually found that she enjoyed his company. And he wasn't bad to look at, either. He was approximately Helga's height, with a modest physique and he still wore his scraggly black hair under a cap that he turned backwards. But something about him was endearing. Maybe it was the fact that he made Helga feel wanted. He made her feel sexy and desirable, something that she had long struggled with considering her awkward beginnings. And he always seemed so grateful to simply be in her _presence. _It felt good to know someone liked her like that… As more than a friend. She couldn't say that their feelings in the relationship were equal – he was surely more invested than she was – but for the time being, it worked.

Arnold and Gerald were coming down the hallway at that time, headed for lunch when Arnold noticed Helga and Sid canoodling near the entrance. Sid whispered something in her ear and Helga's face turned red before she let out a sheepish laugh.

Arnold felt his skin crawling, his pulse quicken.

"Easy, easy," Gerald nudged Arnold, "Walk it off, man,"

Arnold tried not to watch them as he headed in their direction but he couldn't help but feel like his blood was boiling. It wasn't fair. Helga loved _him. _Arnold. At least that's what she'd told him. Granted, it was a long time ago but still, how could she go from _him_ to _Sid? _And of course, Arnold kicked himself for not realizing his feelings sooner but by the time he finally had, Helga seemed to have become disinterested and as more time passed, the idea of telling her how he felt seemed more and more… intimidating.

They finally made it past the sickening couple and into the cafeteria. Arnold's fists were clenched tight and his eyes narrowed but he forced himself to relax.

Once he and Gerald found a table, Arnold slumped into one of the seats and sighed, "I really hate this."


	2. Chapter 2

**[A/N: Glad to see you guys like the story so far! I hope you enjoy this next chapter as well :)**

**Let me know what you think!**

**D/C: I don't own Hey Arnold]**

Curly was immensely relieved when the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. His hair was still sticky with milk from earlier and he just wanted to go home.

He pulled a bulky brown coat out of his locker and slid into it, decreasing his range of motion. He secured a thick black beanie onto his head and adjusted his backpack on his back before shutting his locker and making his way down the hall.

"Hi Curly," Phoebe turned a corner and appeared out of nowhere before falling into step alongside him. "How are you? Was the rest of your day alright?"

He hated that. She meant well but the pity in her voice. He heard it almost everywhere he went and he was sick of it.

"Yup!" Curly answered quickly.

Phoebe wasn't entirely convinced but she could tell he didn't seem to be up for talking. "Well, have a good weekend, Curly! I'll see you Monday!"

"See ya," And with that, they parted ways.

As Curly rounded the corner of the tall brick building, Wolfgang and his lackeys appeared.

"Hey limpdick, didn't anyone ever tell you not to cry over spilled milk?" Wolfgang chortled.

Curly furrowed his brow and tried to avoid them without a word but they cut him off.

"Aww, going so soon?" Wolfgang smirked down at Curly who maintained eye contact with the pavement. "Come on, can't you take a joke? No hard feelings, right?" He offered a hand.

Curly glanced at the hand in front of him and thought about bolting for the other direction but with the heat of the upperclassmens' eyes on him, he felt inclined to comply. He gingerly reached out his hand to shake Wolfgang's and that was when Wolfgang maneuvered Curly's arm behind his back, twisting it so that he had complete control.

The other boys laughed as Wolfgang twisted Curly's arm tighter and Curly tried, in vain, to resist.

"Hey, nice hat," One of the other boys, a kid named James, commented before snatching Curly's beanie from his head.

"Give that back!" Curly yelled angrily and Wolfgang tightened his grip.

"Say, _please_," Wolfgang tutted. "No manners, I'm tellin' ya,"

"Please," Curly stilled. "Let me go,"

"That's more like it," And with that, Wolfgang shoved Curly away, but not before putting a foot out to trip him so that Curly fell face-first into the cold, icy pavement.

"He's pretty clumsy, isn't he?" The other boy, Rich, laughed.

Curly slowly gathered himself. His glasses were broken and he did his best to straighten them back into place. Thankfully, he'd been able to put his hands out in front of him to lessen the impact to his face. He stood up shakily, still fully aware of how Wolfgang and his friends were laughing at him, and turned to James who was still holding his beanie.

"Can I have that back now?" Curly asked, feeling defeated and wanting this nightmare of a day to just be over.

With an evil grin, James trotted over to the dumpster and tossed the beanie inside, "Yeah, be my guest,"

Wolfgang and Rich hooted with laughter as Curly walked over to the dumpster, his eyes narrowed in anger. He was reaching over the edge of the dumpster when he heard Wolfgang whisper to the other guys, "Hey watch this,"

And before he knew what hit him, Wolfgang had grabbed Curly by the legs and flipped him over into the dumpster.

As the boys walked away, laughing uncontrollably, Curly sat motionless in the dumpster. His only relief was that the torment was finally over. At least for today. He wished someone else had been around but most people didn't come around to that side of the school to go home. Curly usually went that way because it was a shortcut to get home – he preferred to walk home since taking a bus would cost him an additional half hour of time.

Curly grabbed his beanie from the trash and stood up carefully before climbing over the edge of the dumpster and back onto the pavement. He shook a banana peel off of his coat and stuffed the dirty beanie into one of the pockets. As he continued to make his way around the side of the school, Curly passed by a pair of double doors that served as an additional exit. Rhonda came out with two other girls that he didn't know and for a brief moment, everyone stopped. Curly felt his cheeks flush with shame and embarrassment, fully aware of his disheveled appearance and the putrid smell coming from his clothes.

Rhonda's mouth was agape with disgust and the other two girls turned their nose up at Curly, coaxing Rhonda to hurry up and walk away. Curly watched them go, tears brimming in his eyes that he quickly blinked away, and headed home.

. . . . . . . .

The way Sid's lips felt when they kissed her neck made Helga shiver. She wasn't sure if she liked it or not but it usually produced a laugh, or at least a smile, so that was a good thing, right?

They were lounging on the bed in Sid's room that evening. The room hadn't changed very much – wallpaper peeled back in multiple corners, broken blinds adorned the one window, clothes were strewn around the room.

With some coaxing, Helga allowed Sid to kiss her. He was a little overzealous but it wasn't so bad. Sid leaned in closer to her and Helga was actually starting to enjoy herself until she felt a growing hardness pressed against the outside of her thigh.

Sid immediately scrambled off the bed, grabbing a pillow with him and holding it over his pants.

"I am _so _sorry," His face was beat-red and his eyes looked terrified. "Holy crap, I – oh god, I'm sorry,"

Helga, as well, was a bit embarrassed. It's not that she was uncomfortable with sex in general but this relationship was still new and she wasn't even entirely sure how she felt about Sid. That made it a little awkward.

"It's uhh… it's okay," Helga focused intently on looking anywhere but at the area Sid was covering.

Sid paused, "It… it _is_?" His voice went up a bit.

Helga's eyes widened. "Oh whoa, no, _no _– I didn't mean like _that_,"

Sid was quiet and after another minute or two he felt comfortable returning the pillow to the bed. He sat down on the edge and the two of them sat in silence before Sid spoke again.

"I really like you, Helga…" He spoke softly.

Helga muttered, "Yeah, I can tell,"

Sid cringed with embarrassment but moved on, wringing his hands together and avoiding eye contact. "Look, I – um… if you ever… ya know, _wanted_ –"

"I'm gonna stop ya right there, Sid," Helga cut him off as she moved closer to sit next to him on the bed. "We're not _there_, okay? It's nothing against you but I can't guarantee we will be… just…relax,"

Sid took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "You're right. I'm sorry,"

"Would you stop apologizing already? Criminy!" Helga smacked him playfully on the back. "Just shut up and kiss me before I change my mind,"

She couldn't completely understand how this thing with Sid had come to fruition but Helga also couldn't say she didn't enjoy it most of the time. Sid was a bit of a pushover, a little neurotic, and he kissed ass like it was his job… but despite all that, he was sweet. He had a good heart and made Helga feel appreciated. After all of those years feeling rejected by the one she'd given her heart away to, it felt nice to feel desired. To have someone chasing her, thinking about her, _wanting_ her.

There was, however, a twinge of second-guessing that went on in the back of her mind. She didn't love Sid… and she wouldn't necessarily go so far as to say that she had ever had a _crush_ on him… but she _did_ like him. Maybe that was enough for the time being.

. . . . . . . .

"Arnold, why don't you just _tell _her already?" Gerald asked as he attempted to block Arnold from making a shot. They were down at the YMAA gym playing basketball and Gerald had been trying to convince Arnold for hours now. "Wouldn't you be telling anyone in your position _the same thing_?"

Arnold's brow was furrowed and he growled, faking right before going left. He ran up to make the shot from the side and… missed.

Gerald grabbed the ball and took a shot. The net swished as the ball came back down. "I mean, what's the worst that could happen, right?"

Arnold took the ball and moved farther out onto the court, still guarding the ball from Gerald. "It just isn't worth it, Gerald. And what's telling her gonna do? Break her up with Sid and then she'll come running back to me like a lovesick puppy? Doubtful," He rolled his eyes at Gerald who was once again less than a foot away, covering him.

"It could happen," Gerald winked.

"No," Arnold tried to fake him out again but Gerald was onto his strategies. "And besides, Sid is completely… well, _he's _the lovesick puppy. I missed my chance…"

Arnold let his guard down and Gerald took the ball with little effort. He stood up straight and held the ball against one hip. "Look man, I'm just sayin' it's not good for you to keep all this mess bottled up like this. You're gonna end up exploding and _I_ don't wanna be around for _that_,"

Arnold shrugged and wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

"_And_," Gerald added. "Since when did _I _become the voice of reason? You're slackin', man,"

Arnold managed a half-grin. "Since my head stopped being screwed on the right way,"

Gerald elbowed Arnold playfully as they made their way out of the gym, "Well, with a head like yours, we can't afford that, can we?"

. . . . . . . .

Curly had been quiet at dinner. After school, he'd gone home, showered and put his dirty clothes in the washer before either of his parents got there.

Curly's mom tried to make conversation and ask about Curly's day but he simply rolled his peas along the edge of the plate and stabbed the deer meat repetitively. Curly's dad went hunting and fishing with some of his friends in the fall and for tonight, his mom had pulled some deer meat out of the freezer in the basement.

Curly finished eating, went up to his room and texted Helga.

**WORST. DAY. EVER.**

He leaned back on his bed and closed his eyes, just trying to forget. The phone vibrated in his hand.

**Life sucks, man. I'm sorry. Want me to kick some ass?**

Curly texted back, **No, I'll be fine**

Curly treasured his friendship with Helga. It had been an unlikely one, but Helga was apparently full of surprises. The day he found out about Helga's obsession with Arnold had been one for the history books – talk about a shock! But as he got to know her, Helga and her ways started to make more sense, at least to him. He felt like they'd been cut from the same cloth and he could count on her to understand where he was coming from. He still couldn't let go of that shred of hope that he might one day win Rhonda over.

Curly remembered when Helga moved on from Arnold though, and he wasn't sure if he'd be able to follow suit with Rhonda. It hadn't been a pretty sight, watching Helga set fire to a collection of Arnold shrines she'd dumped in the middle of her backyard. Somewhere along the line, Helga had finally given up on him.

If only Curly could be that strong.


	3. Chapter 3

**[A/N: I hope you guys like the fic so far. I can't wait to get to the "meat and potatoes" of it, though. Please let me know your thoughts - I love hearing them! :) There's a LOT coming up and pretty soon so prepare yourselves!**

**D/C: I don't own H/A]**

The following Monday, Arnold was in the boys' locker room getting changed for gym. He hadn't made any progress in terms of figuring out what he was going to do about his feelings for Helga and he'd been agonizing over it all weekend. Why couldn't there be some simple resolution to this? No matter what he did, it was a loss. He couldn't tell Helga without jeopardizing his friendship with Sid but at the same time, keeping it to himself was driving him nuts!

Arnold sat on the bench by his gym locker as he finished tying his sneakers. On the other side of the row of lockers were some of the other guys in his class – Stinky, Harold, Sid, Peapod Kid and a few others. Arnold could vaguely hear their conversation as they guffawed about their weekend escapades.

" – And then _I _puked and it tasted like blueberries!" Harold exclaimed, referring to his drunken Friday night. According to him, eating Gushers candy when you were drunk meant that if you puked, it tasted like fruit.

Stinky's face contorted, "That's 'bout the nastiest story I _ever_ heard,"

Harold shrugged as he changed the subject, "So, Sid," he chuckled. "How was _your w_eekend?"

"What do you mean?" Sid lifted his shirt to apply deodorant to each armpit.

Harold rolled his eyes, "Come _on. _You told us last week you and Helga were gonna have some… _alone_ time…" He winked and the other boys' ears perked up.

Arnold couldn't help but overhear and he tried to be inconspicuous as he leaned closer to the lockers, hoping to hear the conversation on the other side.

"W-well, I –" Sid stammered. Images of that horribly awkward boner moment raced through his mind as well as how Helga had essentially shut down the idea of any… _horizontal_… relationship.

"Aww c'mon," Stinky pushed. "Don't leave us hangin'!"

"Well, I, uh –" Sweat beaded at Sid's hairline and he struggled to decide how to answer. He couldn't tell the guys what had _actually _happened. "—Well, let's just say…" Sid paused for dramatic effect. "That was one experience she _won't _forget, if you know what I mean,"

Sid grinned as the guys hooted and hollered, slapping him on the back. He had had every intention of leaving it at that and letting his friends come up with their own conclusions (even though he knew what kind of conclusion he'd led them to) but…

"What was she like?"

"Does she shave down there?"

"Was she like one o' them dominatrix-types?"

As the boys continued to ask more and more vulgar questions, Arnold felt a combination of anger and nausea hit his stomach. He couldn't stand to be in that room any longer and hear Sid talk about his sexual relationship with Helga. It was at that moment that Gerald finally came out of the bathroom area and back over to his locker which was a few away from Arnold's.

As soon as he came around the corner, Gerald was caught off-guard by the furious look in Arnold's eyes.

"Whoa," Gerald surveyed Arnold who looked as though he wanted to put his fist through a wall. "What's going on?"

Arnold just shook his head and stormed out of the locker room. Bewildered, Gerald tossed his belongings into his locker and hurried after his best friend as the other guys continued their conversation.

. . . . . . . .

As second period drew to a close, Curly anxiously watched the clock. Every day after this class, he crossed paths with Wolfgang on his way to third period. He'd thought about going the long way – around the building – to avoid him but it was way too cold outside for that. Instead, he hoped to hide amongst the other students so that Wolfgang might miss him.

Curly's heart rate quickened as soon as the bell rang. He quickly grabbed his books and made his way out of the classroom, taking care to stay neither in the front nor the back of the crowd. It was to no avail, however, because as Wolfgang came around the corner and into view, the three students in front of Curly made a sudden turn into one of the classrooms, leaving Curly in full view.

Wolfgang noticed Curly out of the corner of his eye and a menacing grin immediately appeared on his face.

He cut across the hallway traffic and shoved Curly up against the lockers, causing Curly's books to fall.

"Good morning, Sunshine," Wolfgang laughed hatefully and kicked Curly's binder, sending it several feet away and into the heavy congested hallway traffic.

Curly stepped back and slid down so that he was sitting against the lockers and pulled his knees up to his chest so they were out of the way of passing students. He resolved to get his binder once the hall became less crowded and sighed, leaning his head back against the locker.

_Just another day in paradise…_

. . . . . . . .

Arnold couldn't concentrate in third period. Images of Helga and Sid tormented his subconscious and he scribbled angrily into his notebook. Phoebe was in class with him and took note of his bizarre behavior.

Looking around to make sure no one was watching her, she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. She could afford to divert her attention – she was already three chapters ahead of the teacher anyway.

**Arnold is behaving quite… strangely today. Should we be worried about him?**

A moment later, Gerald replied.

**He's been like this ALL day. Just let me know if he tries to wile out on somebody**

**I'm sorry?**

**… If he turns into some kinda Incredible Hulk, then we worry**

**Oh okay. I'll let you know.**

Gerald and Phoebe had yet to make their relationship official, despite the fact they'd been behaving as if they were dating for years now. Phoebe was always too shy to bring it up and, well… Gerald just didn't really bring it up.

Meanwhile, Arnold was struggling to pay attention. Something about… tangents…cosine… or maybe it was something else? Every shape the teacher drew on the board somehow managed to morph before Arnold's very eyes and, in some way, resemble Helga. He tried to shake the thought from his head but it kept coming back. Sid holding her. Kissing her. Touching her… He couldn't stand it! The thought of Helga's smile; laughing softly, lying back on Sid's bed, scantily clad and…

Arnold shook his head again and noticed he had just about snapped his pencil in half. There was a deepening crack along the middle that didn't seem like it could've withstood any more pressure.

The teacher's voice was now a distorted echo and Arnold needed to get out of there. He needed a distraction.

He didn't raise his hand. He didn't ask for a hall pass. He didn't even stop on his way out to tell anyone where he was going. He just left.

. . . . . . . .

During lunch, Curly had finally found his reprieve. He sat with Helga and Phoebe, as usual, and they had managed to cheer him up. Helga was making sarcastic and humorous comments about everyone in the cafeteria in the hopes that she could get Curly out of his funk – even if it was (unbeknownst to them) at someone else's expense.

The period was almost over when Curly noticed Helga's peculiar expression as she looked past him. He was taking a sip of milk as he casually turned, only to find Rhonda standing behind him. He choked on his milk and scrambled to find a napkin on the table to save face.

Rhonda stifled a laugh and immediately put on a face of poise and dignity.

"Hello dears," Her voice was smooth and a bit condescending. "I'm sure you're all aware of the fact that this upcoming Saturday I will be hosting my annual Valentine's Day party and I _do_ hope you'll be able to attend,"

"Oh gee, Rhonda," Helga feigned a regretful decline. "I'd really love to be there – oh gosh, _would I! _But I'm pretty sure I have to clip my toenails that night so…"

Rhonda shot Helga a dirty look but quickly dropped it and carried on.

"_Anyway, _the party starts at 8," She turned her gaze to Curly who was visibly sweating and trying to keep his heart rate steady. "And Curly, I was hoping – if it wouldn't be too much of a bother… that you would care to be my escort for the evening?"

Curly's eyes widened and his mouth was suddenly dry so he couldn't speak. Instead, he nodded dumbly and stared.

Rhonda smirked and patted his cheek. "Wonderful. I'll see you all then," And with that she sauntered back over to her own table.

Helga waved a hand in front of Curly's vacant face. "Snap _out_ of it!"

Curly shook his head and appeared to become coherent again but his love-struck expression remained.

Helga tried to level with him. "I know that _sounded _like a dream come true but you can't trust her,"

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to agree," Phoebe chimed in. "It seems rather suspicious that she would approach you with such a proposition out of the blue,"

"She's _conniving_," Helga squinted her eyes dramatically.

But Curly wasn't having any of it. The girl of his dreams had just asked him out. After so many years of hopeless obsession and pining, she finally _saw_ him. And she didn't look repulsed. No, she had come right up to him and asked him – point-blank – to be her date! It was everything he'd hoped for.

"I'm going," Curly stated sternly. "And it's going to be the best night of my life,"

. . . . . . . .

The final bell had rung and Helga was making her way down the hall toward the front doors. The hallway wasn't _packed _but there were a moderate number of students still making their way to their respective destinations.

She wasn't wearing a coat like some of the other students; instead, she wore a thick, hooded sweatshirt and a beanie. Helga was lost in her thoughts – Rhonda's party, her concern for Curly, agonizing over the fact it was only _Monday_ – when out of nowhere, she felt a hand quickly grab her butt.

She whipped her head around to see one of the guys from her first period class – what was his name again? Kevin? He grinned with satisfaction and his friends chuckled alongside him, that is, until Helga walked up to him, stomped on his foot and then laid a mean punch into his jaw.

Walking away, she shook her head as one of Kevin's friends called out, "Hey, I like 'em feisty. Hurt me, baby,"

_What the hell is wrong with people? _

As if like clockwork, Harold appeared next to Helga from the midst of the crowd.

"Hey Pinkboy," Helga greeted him, unamused.

"I heard _you_ had a good weekend," Harold commented with a grin.

Helga raised an eyebrow. "Uhh… it was alright?"

Harold laughed as if she had made some sort of hilarious joke. "Right,"

He gave Helga a once-over that made her feel a bit uncomfortable before heading off in a different direction.

_Am I missing something here?_

Helga wondered why Harold had acted so strange but quickly shrugged off the thought, attributing it to Harold just being Harold. He wasn't exactly the sharpest crayon in the box to begin with.

But still, it seemed like _everyone _was acting weird today.


	4. Chapter 4

The rest of the week passed in a blur, like street signs and telephone poles zipping by as you drive along until you finally reach your destination.

It was Saturday.

Curly was a bundle of nerves and excitement. Tonight was _his _night. He was going to show Rhonda that he _deserved _her attention, her affection, her love. He'd waited for this moment for so many years and he was only moments away from his heart's one desire becoming reality. Or so he thought.

Gerald had asked Phoebe to go to the party with him, and Sid wouldn't stop asking so Helga eventually conceded, agreeing (begrudgingly) to go to Rhonda's party.

Curly's palms were sweaty as he waited outside of Rhonda's front door. He'd shown up alone and now wondered if it would have been more comfortable to show up with friends. Rhonda had told him to just meet her at the party – it _was_ at _her _house after all. Not your typical "date" scenario.

He wore khaki pants with a white dress shirt, a red tie and a black jacket. He really wanted to impress Rhonda tonight and he'd promised himself that he would be relaxed. He couldn't fumble over his words like an idiot when so much was at stake tonight! And despite the fact that he was head over heels for her and moderately obsessed, he needed to maintain an air of calm. He couldn't overwhelm her with adoration and excitement right away. He had to play it cool. So, he played "cool" as best he could, being _Curly…_

When the door finally opened, it was one of Rhonda's friends from class – Karina. She had thick, dark brown hair with an olive complexion and gave Curly an unimpressed once over before hesitantly letting him inside. She told him he could get himself something to eat or drink if he wanted and so that's where he headed.

Music echoed through the house and you could hear the bass from the speakers in your feet. Most of the guests were on the first floor where the food and drinks were but a few people had wandered to other parts of the house. A sliding glass door, shielded partially by two thick burgundy curtains led out onto the terrace where a few stray party-goers had wandered, seeking solace from the intensity of the thumping bass.

Helga and Sid arrived shortly thereafter and Curly breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Helga walk through the door. Of course, he wasn't the only one to notice the couple's entrance. Helga raised a perplexed eyebrow when an awkward quiet momentarily spread across the crowd. Sid had his arm around her and wore a cheesey yet somewhat _nervous_ grin.

"Hey Curly," Helga approached the snack table where Curly was anxiously stuffing chip after chip into his mouth.

He swallowed and said, "I don't know if I can do this. Have you seen Rhonda anywhere yet?"

"Nope," Helga dug into the bowl for a potato chip of her own, casually popping it into her mouth. "She's probably fluttering around here somewhere," Helga commented sarcastically as she looked around. "But hey, you made it this far right? Heck, if _I _have to be here, then I can at least help keep you from acting like _more _of a lunatic than usual, right?" She pointedly moved the near-empty chip bowl out of Curly's reach.

"Thanks," He deadpanned and downed the cup of spiked punch he had resting on the table beside him.

Helga shrugged and grinned, "What are friends for, right?"

Gerald and Phoebe arrived within a half hour with Arnold tagging along. Gerald and Phoebe might as well have been a couple; you would never have known that they hadn't crossed that line into romance if you saw them together. They walked in, hand-in-hand and somewhat matching. Phoebe wore a light blue skirt with a dark blue floral design and Gerald had chosen a light blue tie. It was almost sickening and even more so when you remembered they weren't official.

"Hello Helga! Curly!" Phoebe smiled brightly as she and Gerald, accompanied by Arnold, approached Helga and Curly at the snack table.

As everyone greeted one another, Helga couldn't help but fight the hard lump settling in her stomach and the bittersweet taste in her mouth. That's how it felt to be around Arnold. There he stood, hands in his pockets and looking around the room without a care in the world. If only we could all have his carefree spirit… but what did she care about him anymore anyway? Though the longer she allowed herself to think about him, albeit negatively, the more her eyes took in the way he looked in his dress pants and dark red button down shirt. Something about Arnold dressed up made her feel weak in the knees but she immediately caught on to her thought process and mentally slapped herself.

"So…" Arnold shuffled in place during a break in the group conversation. "Where's Sid?"

"Oh," Helga startled, then relaxed, relieved to be distracted from her thoughts. She shrugged, "I'm not sure. He headed off somewhere with Stinky and Harold, I think,"

"Hmm," Arnold nodded without another word.

"Soooo," Gerald said, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen over the group. "Where's your date, Curly? I heard Ms. Thing asked you out,"

Curly choked on his own spit, "Oh, uh…" He scratched his head and looked around. "I'm not sure; I haven't seen her yet to—"

"Curly, _darling_," Rhonda's voice sang through the crowd as she approached them. "_So _glad you could make it. How are you?"

Helga crossed her arms and gave Rhonda a once-over. There was something suspicious about the fact Rhonda was giving Curly so much attention but she couldn't quite pinpoint what she was up to. She just didn't trust her motives.

"Uhh…" Curly stammered, stunned by the close proximity, her beauty, and the fact she was speaking to _him_. If only he had the balls to put on the Casanova charm but his self-esteem had taken a nosedive over the years and he couldn't quite squelch his nervousness. "I-It's going-" _Gulp _"Great!" His voice cracked and he cleared his throat to try and put on some air of confidence. "How are _you?_" He asked with a smirk.

Rhonda chuckled, "Oh, I'm _marvelous_," She then addressed the rest of the group. "Are you all enjoying yourselves? Don't you just _love _the chocolate fountain?" She pointed to a tall marble fountain on a table in the corner that had three levels of melted chocolate spilling over into a wide pool at the base. Around the table were plates of strawberries, cantaloupe, and apple slices. "Mustn't have _too _much though. I'm trying to watch my figure,"

_Oh, please someone shoot me… _Helga grumbled in her head before excusing herself to go look for Sid. She navigated her way through the crowds of teenagers but her search halted when a guy she didn't recognize put an arm around her, catching her off-guard.

"So," He laughed and shaggy light brown hair fell into his eyes. "I gotta ask – Spit or swallow?" He made an obscene hand gesture and Helga immediately shoved his arm off of her, grabbed his shoulders to pull him forward a bit and kneed him in the groin. Hard.

He crumpled to the floor, holding himself as he moaned in pain.

Helga crouched down next to his face, "If you ever touch me again, I'll put your dick in a blender and make you drink it. Got it?" She smiled and patted his head before standing up, numerous sets of eyes still locked on her. She noticed Harold in the crowd, laughing.

"Hey Pinkboy!" She yelled over the music to him and he looked like he was going to try and evade her but she got to him too quickly. "You know something, don't you? What the hell is going on?"

"Oh, uh… Nothin," He looked away. Harold was a terrible liar.

Helga took a step closer. Even when she was dressed up, Helga had an intimidating way about her. "Do you really wanna test my patience right now?" She glared. "Spill,"

"It's just that… well…" Harold hesitated, trying to postpone telling her. "Some of us guys _may or may not _know about you and Sid…"

Helga raised an eyebrow. "Me and Sid? What about us?"

"You know," Harold pretended to hump the air and Helga's face immediately flushed. First with embarrassment, then with anger.

"Where is he?" Helga snarled.

. . . . . . . .

Meanwhile, Arnold had decided to go outside into the garden. It was cold and a light frost had formed on the ground where flowers had once grown. A few lingering piles of snow were scattered around the grass but despite this, the air wasn't terribly frigid. Arnold could deal with a light chill if it meant getting a moment to clear his head. There weren't really any other people around and so it gave him the opportunity to be alone with his thoughts.

He felt so torn about his feelings toward Helga. He'd always cared about her deeply, though he didn't always know to what extent. He reminisced on moments they'd shared in the past; working together on class projects, the way she tormented him and drove him nuts, those moments when she let her guard down just long enough for him to see that she really did have a good heart. Arnold thought back to when they saved the neighborhood. It was a memory that haunted his thought for years. The shock, the confusion, the relief, the fear, the way his head felt like it was spinning out of control when Helga told him she _loved_ him then _kissed _him. It wasn't staged, it wasn't part of a script; she had, of her own volition, KISSED him. And despite the fact they'd gone on to pretend it had never happened, it had. And it was _real. _He tried to deny it for a while but the older her got and the longer he thought about it, the more he realized there was _no _denying it. The truth was right there in front of him.

With time, he'd begun to develop feelings of his own. He started looking at Helga in a different light. He'd always known there was more to her than what lay on the surface but after that incident, he spent many nights gazing up at the stars, trying to wrap his head around the situation. It took a long time but he gradually found himself feeling attracted to her, feeling excited to see her and disappointed when she didn't come to school some days. He found himself thinking about her in moments of quiet and smiling when she walked into a room.

Then one day he thought he might actually tell her how he felt. He'd had this plan to go up to her during first period and ask if she'd meet him after school. They could take a walk or get some ice cream and that's when he'd come clean and tell her everything he'd been mulling over in his mind for so long. He'd apologize for making her wait so long for an actual response to her feelings and he'd tell her how much he liked her and wanted to get to know her more. He'd ask her if she wanted to go out with him on an actual date and heck, maybe she'd agree to be his girlfriend.

But that didn't happen.

Arnold knew Sid had been pursuing her for some time but he never expected her to give him a shot. When he found out that she'd agreed to go on a date with him, he'd felt slightly worried but still doubted anything would come of it. Arnold couldn't understand how or why Sid and Helga had become an item after that first date but for the past couple weeks that they've been dating, it's been driving him nuts. Now here he was, at a _Valentine's Day _party, and the one person he wished he could be with was off limits.

From the terrace above, Arnold heard a commotion.

. . . . . . . .

Gerald and Phoebe had gone over to the speakers to dance with some of the other partygoers, leaving Curly and Rhonda alone.

Curly's palms were sweaty as he listened to Rhonda talk. They'd been talking for a while and things seemed to be going well, however he hardly knew what she'd been talking about since he'd been so caught up simply staring at her. The way her raven locks, loosely curled and pinned back away from her face, bounced on her shoulders and her eyes seemed to sparkle in the dimmed lighting. She was beautiful, a goddess, and he could barely find the word to carry on a conversation. He wanted to tell her how he felt and be completely upfront about it. She probably already knew but that didn't make it any easier. A lot of time had passed since his unabashed days of attempts at wooing her. That's why his next sentence came out as a rapid blurb.

"I-I really like you, Rhonda," He paused. Too late to take it back now, might as well go for it. "I might not look like much but you won't be sorry. I promise," He put a hand on hers and offered an awkward, dorky smile.

Rhonda startled him when she leaned in close, seductively whispering into his ear. "Meet me out on the terrace," She drew back and gave him a half-lidded smile before getting up and walking toward the other room.

Curly watched her go and then, a dopey smile on his face, went out onto the terrace to wait. There wasn't anyone else outside anymore as far as he could tell and so she must have wanted a private moment with him. For what, though? He relished the idea of her coming outside, wrapping her arms around his neck and laying a smooch on him reminiscent of those he'd given her in fourth grade.

The air was cold and Curly fought the urge to shiver a bit when a crisp wind whipped past.

_Where is she?_ Curly wondered as he walked back over to the sliding glass door to see if Rhonda was coming out.

He'd just stepped up next to the door when a bucket of iced punch came pouring down onto him. Curly tried to wipe his face but the alcoholic punch burned his eyes. His hair was slicked down from the liquid and ice cubes were scattered around him. He shivered hard as he looked up to see Wolfgang and James laughing hysterically from the window directly above.

Inside, some of the partygoers had noticed the spectacle outside and turned to laugh. Curly saw Rhonda among them, also laughing, and his heart sunk down into his stomach. He wanted to throw up, cry, and punch someone all at the same time.

Curly's cheeks were hot with embarrassment. All he wanted to do at this point was go home as Rhonda stepped out onto the terrace and closed the sliding glass door behind her.

"Curly, did you _really_ think this was going to go anywhere?" Curly hung his head as she spoke, almost scolding. "I mean, nothing's changed since the fourth grade and you _still _haven't gotten the hint? I'm not interested; never was and never will be. So, no more watching me while I'm going about _my_ business, no more psycho stalker behavior. I don't want you staring at me anymore and I don't want you following me around anymore. Even if you think I don't notice, I _do_. Okay?"

Curly never responded. He bit back the tears that threatened, thankful that his sopping wet hair fell just long enough to shield his eyes if he kept his head hung low. Without a word he walked briskly down the stone steps, through the garden, and into the night.


	5. Chapter 5

**[A/N: This chapter is a bit on the shorter side but I guess it evens out since the previous chapter was so incredibly long! Thanks for the reviews, guys! Hearing your comments and encouragement really helps keep me going.]**

Monday seemed like any other day. Classes, teachers, projects, homework assignments… there was no reason to think today would be any different. After the events that transpired the previous Saturday, a few people were quieter than usual. Or absent.

Helga hadn't heard from Curly all weekend and she wasn't afraid to say she was worried. While she was distracted with her situation with Sid, she had completely missed the spectacle. Phoebe told her about it later that night after she'd caught up with her but every one of Helga's calls and texts to Curly that weekend had gone unanswered. She'd even attempted going to his house on Sunday but got no response.

Despite her own personal drama, she still was more concerned with her friend. It wasn't like she'd been so invested in Sid that she was going to be heartbroken over their break-up. To be honest, it was probably inevitable. And she'd be damned if he was going to get away with spreading a rumor like THAT around the school. Once she'd found him on the other side of the house, she laid a verbal lashing on him in front of everyone and no below-the-belt (figuratively _and _literally) insult was off-limits. She hadn't let him get off easily and she expected, _if _he showed up to school today, to see him walking with a limp.

But it probably served her right, letting her guard down to such a weasel of a guy. She'd spent the weekend, when she wasn't worrying about Curly, kicking herself for even giving Sid a chance. Had she really been that desperate? What the hell was she _thinking_?

Her anger outweighed any remorse or sadness over the break-up and it was going to take a while for that to cool down. Probably about the same amount of time it'd take for the rumors he'd spread to die down and become a thing of the past.

. . . . . . . .

Meanwhile on Sunday, Arnold had been sitting in his room working on math homework and listening to a playlist on his computer. He sat cross-legged on the floor, notebooks and worksheets spread around him, as he sang alone with the music playing from the speakers on his desk.

"…_Baby I will wait for you. If you think I'm fine it just ain't true; I really need you in my life. No matter what I have to do, I'll wait for you_," Arnold sang to himself as he absent-mindedly flipped through his textbook, looking for an example problem. "_It's been a long time since you called me; How could you forget about me? You got me feeling crazy. How can you walk away? Everything stays the same, I just can't do it, baby_…"

By this point, Arnold wasn't putting much focus into working on his homework; he was going through the motions of looking through his textbook but his brain was focusing more on the song than the work and he was starting to get a bit more emphatic as the music progressed. This is why he didn't notice the sounds of conversation and someone walking around downstairs.

"_What will it take to make you come back? Girl, I told you what it is and it just ain't like that. Why can't you look at me? You're still in love with me. Don't leave me crying…_" Arnold, at this point, was barely making an effort to do his work and instead his mind had zeroed in on his angst regarding his feelings toward Helga. "_Baby, why can't we just start over again? Get it back to the way it was. If you give me a chance I_—"

"Man, _what _are you _doing_?!" Gerald's voice startled Arnold out of his dramatics and he whipped his head around to see his friend's incredulous face desperately holding back hysterical laughter.

"Uhh," Arnold's face flushed slightly at being caught singing such a sappy song. "I was just doing homework…"

"Right," Gerald rolled his eyes as he scanned the playlist on Arnold's computer. "Really, Arnold? _'Let me love you'? 'U got it bad'? _Even Edwin McCain?" He shook his head. "I dunno what we're gonna do with you, my brother,"

Arnold sighed. "Can we just move on, please?"

"We can," Gerald turned. "But obviously _you _can't,"

Arnold let out a frustrated grumble. "I feel like I'm losing it, Gerald,"

. . . . . . . .

It was first period and class was almost over. Helga sat, barely paying attention, as she stared at the clock and wondered where Curly was.

Meanwhile, Arnold was of course watching Helga from afar, his gaze wistful and longing.

"Look man, you're crossing over into creepy stalker dude territory the longer you keep starin' at that girl," Gerald whispered, breaking Arnold's daze.

Arnold rolled his eyes and flipped through his notebook, trying to divert his attention. "Stop exaggerating, Gerald,"

"I'm just sayin'," Gerald shrugged. "Why don't you say somethin' to her after class? I heard her and Sid broke up at Rhonda's party," He chuckled. "Well, really I heard she beat the shit out of him and _then_ they broke up,"

Arnold cringed and shot a quick glance back over to Helga. "Really?"

Gerald nodded. "Yup. Poor guy… I hope he didn't want kids someday,"

Arnold considered the idea of approaching Helga after class. He wasn't really fond of the idea of a rebound situation but what if he missed his chance again? The opportunity was there, right in front of him and waiting for him to seize it.

The bell rang, signally it was time to switch periods, and as the other students got up and made their way out of the classroom and into the hall, Arnold scrambled to get his things together and catch up to Helga before she left. However, he slowed down when Helga approached Mrs. Soracoe to ask about a recent assignment.

"Want me to wait up for you?" Gerald asked, books in hand, as he prepared to exit the classroom.

Arnold shook his head, "No, it's okay. You can go ahead,"

"Alright. See ya later, Arnold," Gerald said but his departure was immediately interrupted by Principal Wartz's voice over the intercom.

"Attention students, faculty, and staff: An unidentified and potentially armed individual is on school premises. Please adhere to standard lockdown procedure. I repeat, we are currently in lockdown until further notice. Local police _have _been alerted. That is all,"

The only people remaining in Mrs. Soracoe's room were Mrs. Soracoe, Arnold, Helga, and Gerald. Within each of them, a seed of fear and uncertainty steadily grew.

"What do we do?" Helga asked, struggling to keep her voice from faltering.

"All of you go over to that corner," Mrs. Soracoe whispered, pointing to the back corner of the classroom farthest from the door and window. "No talking," She quickly pulled the classroom door shut, locked it, and flipped the lights off.

Before any of the teens could make a move, indistinct voices could be heard outside the window. They couldn't quite tell who it was or what was being said but the noise only heightened the fear that had already set in.

Gerald sat in the corner, knees pulled to his chest and his head resting on them as he told himself over and over again that Phoebe was probably fine. As soon as Principal Wartz had made the announcement, she'd been the first thing to come to his mind and he only hoped that she was somewhere safe. He hadn't seen her since early that morning before the first bell had rung and he replayed the memory in his head; her sweet smile and sing-song voice, the sparkle in her eye when she looked at him, the way he just wished he'd kissed her. He wished he hadn't been so stubborn about making their relationship official.

Arnold was in the corner next to Gerald and Helga, his heart was pounding in his chest. The room was silent aside from the commotion coming from outside and the unsteady breathing of his friends. If only they could hear what was going on… He thought about his grandparents and whether or not they knew what was going on. He wished he could hold Helga but he remained still. All he really wanted in that moment was to protect her. Despite her tough-girl façade, her eyes were dilated and her face paled. He could see how scared she was, even if she didn't say anything.

Gerald buried his head in his hands while the others listened intently for some indication as to what was going on and who was outside. The eerie quiet in the room was unnerving and things like tonight's homework, written on the chalkboard, and the chemistry notebook left carelessly on the floor by someone's desk seemed trivial now.

Helga felt frozen yet anxious and restless. This was too surreal. It couldn't possibly be happening, right? Wartz had to be over-exaggerating. But then, what was going on outside? That's when she remembered that the window hadn't been locked yet. Without a word, she stood up and hurried over to the window.

"_Helga, don't!_" Arnold whispered harshly to which Helga only turned around sharply and emphatically put a finger to her lips.

Mrs. Soracoe shot Helga a scolding yet concerned look but didn't move to stop her from locking the window. The less noise they made, the better. Helga pulled the lever on the window, locking it into place as Mrs. Soracoe finished shutting everything else down and headed to the corner.

Time seemed to stand still for these moments, though they passed in what were only seconds, and the room was thick with tension and fear. Helga hurried back over to the corner of the room where Arnold and Gerald were huddled but before she could sit down, there was a sudden sound of glass shattering.

The window had broken and all of a sudden, Helga cried out in pain, slumping to the floor.

Arnold felt like his heart stopped when she fell into a heap in front of him. The floor was splattered with crimson and his world seemed to collapse in front of him.

"_NOOOOOOOO!_"

**[A/N: The songs mentioned were "Wait for you"-Elliott Yamin, "Let me love you"-Mario, and "U got it bad"-Usher. For full comedic effect, I would suggest listening to those songs and imagine Arnold jamming to them in his lovesick stupor.**

**Also, holy crap. Yes, this story is going to get intense. In case you haven't figured that out already. But did you really expect anything different from me? Let me know what you think! Like I said, hearing from you guys helps keep me motivated to continue writing. :) Toodles.]**


	6. Chapter 6

**[A/N: Hey guys! Things are getting crazyyyy in here! Glad to see everyone's liking it though! Thanks so much for your comments and encouragement! **

**D/C: I don't own ANYTHING COOL. Does that count?]**

**The Night Before**

Curly had ignored his mother's questions when he had arrived home sopping wet and freezing. After a long, hot shower, he'd locked himself in his room, music blaring to drown out the sound of his cries.

How could she do that to him? She'd turned him down before but she completely set him up. And granted, she'd set him up before but things were different now. After all the abuse he'd had to deal with from Wolfgang and his friends, she'd used _them _to play such a cruel trick on him.

He felt powerless. So many times he'd been the victim. Getting beat up after school, socially isolated, snide comments made behind his back but loud enough for him to still hear them – how much was one person expected to take?

He'd loved her. Rhonda meant the world to Curly and he couldn't imagine what he would do without the hope of her one day reciprocating the deep-seeded feelings he had for her. This wasn't just puppy love – this had lasted the better part of 10 years!

And oh how he hated Wolfgang. The thought of him made Curly's adrenaline surge and he felt as if his blood were boiling. Wolfgang thought he could do anything he wanted, just because he was bigger than Curly. And really, he could. Curly's lanky build was no match against Wolfgang's brawn.

Curly sat at his desk, slouched down in the office chair, gripping the armrests tightly as he soaked in his anger. Why did he always have to be the victim? Why couldn't he get the girl? Why couldn't he be the one everyone liked and respected as opposed to the most pathetic dweeb in school. What gave them any right to hurt him? Images of all the times he'd been shoved into lockers, thrown into dumpsters, his belongings stolen, or beat up behind the school raced through his head. He thought about all of the comments and names he'd been called over the years, ranging from "Loser" to "Limpdick". He was seething. His brow furrowed and all he wanted was vengeance. He wanted them to feel the pain they'd caused him, not just tonight but for all of the past years he'd been ignored or abused.

He was startled out of his thoughts when his mom yelled to him from downstairs.

"Sweetheart?"

Curly trudged over to his door and yelled down the brightly lit hallway. "Yeah?"

"I don't know if you're still hungry but I made from deer jerky from your dad's last hunting trip if you want any!"

"I'm not hungry, Mom," Curly said, closing the door slowly.

"Alright well, it's down here on the table if you want some later,"

Curly shut the door and returned to his chair, slouching once again and staring blankly at the wall as he recounted the events of the night.

He was ashamed and furious that he had trusted Rhonda. He'd allowed his guard to lower, only for her to completely break his heart in the most heartless of ways.

She always got what she wanted. She was beautiful, popular, and decently intelligent, not to mention rich. It both pained him and infuriated him to think of how perfect she was. Everything worked out for her. Just about everyone liked her. No one was mean or hurtful to her, she didn't have problems she had to deal with. Life was easy. And for some reason, this made what she did to him seem even more callous.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that she had everything and he had nothing. It wasn't fair that Wolfgang was bigger so he could beat up Curly or torture him in other ways yet nothing could be done about. Even when teachers or Principal Wartz got involved in some of their altercations, Wolfgang always seemed to wiggle out of any serious repercussions.

Why was everything so twisted? Why did Curly have to be the victim?

That's when he was struck with a thought. He realized the darkness of it, yet he considered it still. It wasn't okay, but was it okay for him to get beaten up? His glasses broken on multiple occasions? Completely humiliated in front of everyone on just about a daily basis? His heart broken by the one girl he'd pined for relentlessly for years? Was any of that okay?

After his parents had gone to sleep, Curly crept down into the basement and over to the gun case where his father stored all of his guns and hunting equipment. He knew his father kept the key taped to the wall behind the case and when he opened it, he found guns of varying sizes as well as ammunition and knives. There were drawers in the bottom where a few camo suits were folded and stored. Curly reached for a smaller gun, a pistol, and carefully examined it. It was heavier than he'd thought it would be and he considered where this dangerous thought process was taking him for a moment but was quickly drowned out by the unrelenting screams of rage still echoing in his head. With a look of determination, or perhaps desperation, Curly shut and locked the gun case, replacing the key to its secret spot and sneaking the gun back upstairs to his bedroom.

. . . . . . . .

**Present Time**

Phoebe could feel her heartbeat in her ears as she held her breath in the girl's bathroom stall. She'd decided to use the restroom inbetween classes when Principal Wartz's message had come on over the intercom. So now, she sat silent in the stall, her feet pulled up onto the seat and her breathing shallow as she resolved to make no sound that could potentially echo in the empty bathroom.

She tried to rationalize the situation. Perhaps it was a mistake and the faculty was simply taking precautions. Maybe everything actually was okay. But after she heard what sounded like a gunshot, she had a harder time convincing herself of that. She thought about her parents and wished she could be home in her mother's arms. She thought about her friends and wondered whether they were okay and where they were. But the thoughts that lingered were those of Gerald and her heart ached to think of any harm coming his way.

. . . . . . . .

Sid hadn't come to school that day. Mortified over what had transpired at Rhonda's party that weekend, he didn't feel up to the idea of facing his peers. He sat in front of the TV, bedraggled and bleary-eyed as he ate a bowl of cereal. His eyes were puffy from crying the night before and he hadn't changed out of his pajamas. As much as Helga had humiliated him, he still had had real feelings for her and breaking up was the last thing he ever wanted.

His dad had been watching the news on a little TV in their kitchen when Sid came down for breakfast and even after his dad had left the room, Sid continued to halfheartedly watch. He was more interested in his sulking and cereal until he heard Hillwood High mentioned.

_"An update on the Hillwood High gunman," _a woman's voice said as scenes from the school grounds were shown on the screen. "_Police have yet to apprehend the suspect in the case but witnesses have identified Thaddeus, otherwise known as "Curly" Gammelthorpe as the prime suspect,"_

It was at that moment Harold appeared on the screen, his face blanched and his voice cracking with fear.

"_I saw him in the hall cuz I was late to school and had to go to the office_," Harold was visibly shaken and his pupils dilated. "_He was carrying this gun at his side and I yelled to him. That's when he turned around and pointed it at me_," He paused. "_Then he went out the side door and I ran back into the office to tell somebody_,"

"He can't… there's no way…" Sid stared in disbelief at the TV as his own pulse began to quicken.

. . . . . . . .

Arnold's chest felt like a thousand bricks had replaced what had once been his heart. Helga was conscious but blood steadily streamed from a wound in her thigh and onto the dirty classroom floor.

Gerald's face had paled as he watched Arnold scramble over to Helga and gather her up in his arms and into his lap. His best friend was panic-stricken and shaky as he held onto Helga for dear life. She was losing blood quickly and her eyelids seemed to become heavy as they fluttered open and closed.

"_Stay with me, Helga,_" Arnold whispered forcefully into her ear, hoping to perhaps startle her into consciousness. "_You're gonna be okay…"_

The look on his face, however, indicated he wasn't entirely sure _how _things were going to play out. A silent tear slid down his face and dripped onto the shoulder of Helga's shirt before he shook his head and furrowed his brow.

Mrs. Soracoe pulled a thick ribbon out of her hair and attempted to wrap it around Helga's leg as a sort of tourniquet but to no avail; it wasn't long enough. Arnold gently rested Helga's head on his lap and yanked his plaid shirt off before proceeding to maneuver it around Helga's thigh.

"_Up a bit higher on her leg, Arnold," _Mrs. Soracoe instructed.

Arnold pulled the shirt up as high as it would go, feeling slightly awkward being in such close proximity to Helga's more intimate of areas but fueled by adrenaline. With a grunt, he pulled the shirt into a knot as tightly as he could and resumed his attempts at getting her to look at him. Say something. _Anything_ he could hold onto so he'd know she was going to be okay…

"_Helga, you can't do this_," Arnold pleaded, shaking her slightly as his voice cracked.

She stirred slightly but was still very out of it. "_Arnold?_"

Arnold nodded through watery eyes as he struggled to maintain his composure with little success. "_I'm right here_,"

"_Don't…_" Helga paused, her eyes still closed and her skin pale. "_Please don't leave me,_"

"_Never_," Arnold shook his head vigorously. "_I'm not going _anywhere. _I promise," _He felt like he could burst into tears at any moment and so took a breath to stabilize before whispering, "_I'll never leave you,_"

**[A/N: Oh baby! What's ****_that_**** supposed to mean? Is Helga gonna be okay? Will Arnold tell her how he feels before it's *gulp* ****_too late_****? What will be Curly's fate? We shall see! Tell me what ****_you_**** think!**

**Until next time...]**


	7. Chapter 7

**[A/N: Hey guys! I made this chapter longer to make up for how short the last one was. I try to end the chapters at what I feel are the best stopping points and so sometimes we have long chapters, sometimes we have short ones. Either way, here's the next chapter and I hope you enjoy it!**

**D/C: I don't own Hey Arnold.]**

Sid's eyes widened at the sight before him as he pulled up to the school in his dad's beat up old car. There was caution tape stretched far and wide, encompassing just about the entirety of the school grounds, and numerous cop cars were lined up, also blocking entrance. Off to the side of the school, groups of students had congregated with their teachers, unsure of where they should go or who they should be with. Some of the students had been released to their parents who'd frantically arrived to take their children home and dozens of cops were patrolling the perimeter.

Sid rolled down his window and tried to get a decent look, considered he was several yards away, parallel-parked on the main street. It was hard to tell exactly who was outside and whether all of his friends had gotten out of the school safely. But he could only think of one person that he wanted to see right at that moment, one person he was praying would come into his view. The one person he still cared for deeply. The one who'd just broken his heart.

. . . . . . . .

"Is she gonna be okay?" Gerald whispered to Mrs. Soracoe as Arnold, oblivious to anyone but Helga, cradled her in his arms.

Mrs. Soracoe lips pursed and she only wrapped a comforting arm around Gerald's shoulders, his eyes still incredulous as he watched Arnold with Helga.

"Come on, Helga," Arnold coaxed, feeling queasy as he watched a large bloodstain slowly forming through Helga's jeans. "Stay with me. Stay awake," He jostled her slightly and her eyes fluttered once again.

For a moment, she seemed to gain some coherence and her sassy personality prevailed. "Hey Football-head," she smiled up at him through half-lidded eyes. "What, am I missin' the party?" Her voice was soft, with only a hint of its normal edge.

Arnold smiled, blinking furiously through his watery eyes. "Yup. Just hang on, okay?"

Helga's expression fell slightly and her smile faded. She closed her eyes, "I'm just… really tired, Arnold,"

Arnold's breath caught in his throat, "I know but you've _gotta_ stay awake. C'mon, Helga," He laid her flat on her back, hoping that would help since her body wouldn't have to fight with gravity to get her remaining blood where it needed to be.

He paused, considering her wound and lifted a hand as though to reach for it but hesitated. Mrs. Soracoe realized what he wanted to do and whispered approval. "You're right, Arnold. The tourniquet's slowing the blood flow but she still needs pressure,"

Emboldened, Arnold leaned down to Helga's ear and whispered softly, "This is probably going to hurt…and I'm really sorry, Helga but I have to do this. Please don't be mad…"

And with that, he cupped a hand over her leg where he suspected the wound was and held his other hand over top of it, applying as much direct but gentle pressure he could. Helga cried out in pain at the touch and tried to writhe against Arnold's weight but Gerald crawled over and held her arms down, trying to keep her calm.

"It's okay, Helga," Gerald spoke. "He has to do it. You're losing too much blood,"

Helga growled and grit her teeth but ceased her protest. She grimaced and a tear slid down the side of her face.

Arnold could feel Helga's pulse through the hole in her jeans as blood slid down his hand and dripped onto the floor. He forced himself to breathe slowly; he had to keep it together.

It had been quiet for a number of minutes by now and everyone was wondering what had happened outside and whether there was anyone in the building.

Gerald's thoughts still found their way back to Phoebe and he continued to tell himself she was fine. She had to be fine. The sight of her best friend lying on the floor, half-conscious, in front of him, did nothing to ease his worry.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door and not even a second later, Principal Wartz's voice came over the intercom.

"Students and faculty, the lockdown is no longer in effect as the perpetrator is no longer on school premises. You are all free to exit the building safely,"

Mrs. Soracoe got up from the floor and saw through the small window in the door that the knock had come from paramedics in the hallway, searching for injured persons. She quickly opened the door and escorted them inside.

"Right over there," Mrs. Soracoe pointed to Helga as the paramedics rushed past her. "She was shot in the leg about ten minutes ago,"

One of the paramedics, a young man, slid in next to Arnold, "You can let go now, kid," He said as his hand replaced Arnold's and Arnold slowly stood up and backed away.

The other two paramedics who'd come in wanted to check on Arnold, Gerald, and Mrs. Soracoe but they each assured them they hadn't suffered any harm. With all three of the paramedics giving Helga their full attention, Arnold felt slightly better.

One of the other paramedics, a woman with blonde hair thrown up into a tight ponytail, radioed in for one of her colleagues to bring a stretcher to their room.

"Hey there," the male paramedic who'd taken over for Arnold called to Helga. "You with me? Can you tell me your name?"

"It's Helga," Arnold offered but the female paramedic shushed him.

"You…" Helga whispered breathlessly. "You heard the man…"

"Okay, Helga," the male paramedic continued. "Can you tell me where you are? Do you know what day it is? Can you open your eyes at all, Helga?"

Helga's face contorted into what was supposed to be an annoyed look, "Do you ever… shut up?" And with that, Helga's body fell limp just as two more paramedics came through the door with the stretcher.

"What just happened?" Arnold's eyes widened in a panic.

The paramedics ignored him though as they moved quickly, digging through their bags of equipment.

"She's coding; we gotta get her outta here," the male paramedic said as he and the blonde woman hoisted her up onto the stretcher.

"What is that?" Arnold turned to Gerald, frantic. "_Coding?!"_

The paramedics hooked Helga up to an oxygen mask and quickly wheeled her out of the room.

"All of you, come on," one of them said to the group and they all rushed down the hallway and out of the main doors.

Everything was happening so fast and Arnold felt terrified. The gunman was gone but Helga was still in danger. This couldn't be happening. It didn't feel real. In what felt like hours, though it'd only been minutes, everything in his world seemed to have been turned on its head.

Before loading Helga into the ambulance, one of the paramedics monitoring her vitals called out, "I've got a pulse!"

Arnold's ears pricked up at the sound of that and he bolted over to the ambulance. He saw her eyes flutter open halfway and she turned to him, giving him a smile. "_Football-head_," She said softly.

Arnold's voice cracked with emotion, "Helga, I have to tell you something,"

. . . . . . . .

**Earlier**

The gun was cold in Curly's hands, its smooth metal catching light from the sun as it peeked through the clouds.

He'd just gotten outside after a bold encounter with Harold. He probably didn't have much time left since Harold ran straight for the office when he saw the gun, but Curly had a goal he'd set out to accomplish. First and foremost, he intended to find Wolfgang. He knew Wolfgang and his friends typically hung out around the side of the school between periods and he expected to find them there today after first period. Instead of going into his own class, however, Curly had come in late and, after running into Harold, gone around to the side of the building to hide behind the same dumpster he'd been thrown into the week prior, as well as many other times before. The short time he was waiting seemed to have come and gone, slipping through Curly's hands like sand through an hourglass, before the bell rang, indicating the change of classes. And as expected, Wolfgang and his goons, James and Rich, were already headed to their spot, probably having left class early to do so.

With little tact, and a lot of impulsivity, Curly jumped out from his hiding place.

"Hey guys," He greeted them, his voice on edge.

"Uh, hi?" Wolfgang replied, slightly confused, before reverting to his expected ways. "Wasn't expecting to see you here today. Figured you'd still be crying in your bed like the little pussy you are,"

"Ha!" Curly let out a laugh that was both mocking and unsettling. "Ha. Ha. Hahahahahaha!"

Wolfgang and the other guys paused, unnerved by Curly's bizarre behavior. He used to act crazy like this and that's why they'd started making fun of him and beating him up. After that, he'd become so withdrawn and passive that this new resurgence was alarming.

Wolfgang shook off his bewilderment and scowled, "Get lost, loser. We have business to attend to. Or do we need to spell it out for you?" He cracked his knuckles and moved closer, a wicked grin forming on his face.

"Oohhhhhhh," Curly tut-tutted in a sing-song voice. "Now, I'm sure that on any _other _given day, you would proceed to pound my face in, correct? Or _throw me into a dumpster. _Or _take _my _stuff. _But THIS IS NOT THAT DAY. I… have put up with your cruelty, your bullying, your harassment, your _abuse_ for the _last _time, Wolfgang," Curly slowly pulled the gun from his coat pocket.

"_Shit_, dude, he's got a gun!" Rich whispered.

"Yes, that's right. I do," Curly smiled as he examined the weapon in his hands. "Funny thing, isn't it? Funny how the forces of power have shifted? How _all of a sudden, _I'M in control here and _you all_ are the losers. Or, what's that phrase you used, earlier? _Pussy, _was it? Yes…" Curly glared behind his thick-framed glasses as he raised the gun, aiming it at the three older boys.

Wolfgang, James, and Rich's backs were against the wall as Curly had moved to corner them between the wall and the dumpster. A classroom window was next to them but the window was treated, making it blurry so no one could clearly see in or out.

Curly's hand shook as he held the gun. "Are you _happy_ now?" His voice broke as tears welled in his eyes. "You see what your _torture _can do to someone?"

The other boys were silent, their eyes widened in shock and fear.

Suddenly, a sound came from the window. A click. And not even a second later, a voice called out from a few yards away, "Hey!" Principal Wartz, accompanied by two police officers, had just come around the corner of the building.

Startled, Curly jumped, pulling the trigger and sending a bullet through the window. The window shattered and Curly's heart-rate was out of control. In a panic, he ran, sending a flurry of shots behind him without even looking back. He heard someone yell but within seconds, he was out of earshot.

His heart pounded and his legs ached. As he finally realized no one was chasing him anymore, he settled between two trees in the woods behind the school. He panted hard as he started to realize what he'd just done.

He pulled his knees up to his chest, arms crossed over them and the gun dangling from one hand, as he buried his face and cried.

He wasn't a bad person. Right? He made a mistake. Right? No, this was unforgivable. There was no way he was escaping the reality of what had just happened. He hurt someone. For all he knew, he hurt a lot of people. He didn't even stay to find out. Did… did he actually kill anyone?

The realization of the magnitude of the situation suddenly dawned on Curly and his stomach turned. He set the gun on the ground next to him and turned to vomit in the grass. He coughed and sputtered and cried, coughed and sputtered and cried… How had it escalated to this?

As much as he hated Wolfgang and as angry as he was at Rhonda… he was more angry at himself. He hated himself. Maybe he _was _worthless. Maybe he really _was_ a loser. And maybe, that was all he'd ever be. There was no way he could redeem himself after today. After what he'd just done. He deserved it all. He deserved be arrested, to go to jail and to be beaten mercilessly by whoever so pleased. That's what he deserved. He was worthless, with little more worth than that of a punching bag. He deserved the pain, the loneliness, the guilt. _He_ deserved to die.

Sniffling and bleary-eyed, Curly grabbed the gun and hurried over to the other side of the school building where maintenance had a ladder leading to the roof.

**[A/N: Oh Curly... what's he going to do? Who got hurt and how bad? Will Arnold finally tell Helga? Is Helga going to be okay? So many questions to answer! Hope you guys enjoy it! Let me know what you think! :)]**


	8. Chapter 8

**[A/N: Hey there! I'm so sorry it took forever to update! I've been super busy and I went on a trip to California that was ABSOLUTELY amazing. Now, I'm back and happy to provide you all with the next segment of this story. Please let me know what you think of it! I look forward to hearing from you and thank you so much for your patience!**

**D/C: Still don't own Hey Arnold ;) ]**

From the roof Curly could see the school grounds clearly. The police tape that was stretched around the premises, the frightened faces of faculty, students, and their families that huddled around the building. Cops in bullet-proof vests and a S.W.A.T team patrolled, primarily near the main entrance. From up high, Curly could see a couple of them had circled around the building in its entirety.

With slow, deliberate steps, Curly walked to the roof's edge, grasping the gun firmly in his hand. His eyes were red and behind his thick-rimmed glasses, two tears slid down his face, burning his skin. Curly crawled up onto the ledge, lifting the gun to his temple as he slowly stood up.

"Up on the roof!" Down below, Rhonda called out and pointed.

Within half a second, dozens of guns were pointed at Curly as he stood atop that ledge. Behind him, the sun shone down, casting a glow around his poignantly darkened silhouette.

"Drop the gun!" One of the cops called, his own weapon aimed at Curly's chest.

Curly was quiet and they couldn't see his bleary eyes from this distance. He readjusted his grip on the gun, never removing it from his head and gently laid his pointer finger on the trigger.

"It's over now, kid!" Another cop yelled. "Drop your weapon!"

Curly never moved but cast his gaze over to Rhonda, standing with her friends as usual. The ones that hated him. Despite his pain and anger, he still thought she looked beautiful. Her raven locks shimmered in the golden sun's light and he found her to be almost magical.

"I could never be good enough, could I?" Curly called out. The cops steadied their weapons, still locked on target. "That geek with glasses. That weird kid in the corner," Curly's voice broke. "I _loved _you!" He choked. "I've really screwed things up now, though. And you win. You all win. I tried to push through, tried to keep going… but I can't anymore. And all I wanted, with all that I am, was for that to be returned. For the winds of change to shift in _my f_avor and for this hell I've lived in for _years _to be over,"

Rhonda's heart was racing in her chest and she felt like her feet were nailed into the ground. She couldn't move.

"But it is now," Curly sighed and lowered the gun from his temple, slowly bringing his hand to his side.

A cop called up to him, "Drop the weapon and put your hands—"

In one swift motion, Curly lifted the gun, aimed it at Rhonda and then quickly turned it back to his temple, pulling the trigger.

In one moment of time, one beat, one second… time stood still.

Curly's body fell like a ragdoll over the roof's edge and tumbled to the ground. The sound of bones breaking was stomach-turning and the gun hit the ground next to him, sending a bullet into the brick building where it ricocheted into a nearby tree. Blood quickly pooled around Curly's body and a woman in the crowd cried out.

"My baby!" Curly's mom became hysterical and tried to cross the police line before a couple cops grabbed her. She fell to her knees, sobbing. Curly's dad ran up to her and knelt to the ground alongside her, pulling her hard into his arms. She buried her face into his chest as they rocked and cried together.

Emergency personnel quickly ran over to attend to Curly's body, though it was obvious he was beyond saving. Others headed into the building to help those still inside and Principal Wartz went in to make the announcement. The crisis was over.

. . . . . . . .

**Later**

"Helga, I have to tell you something," Arnold's breath was in his throat as he prepared to make his confession while he still had the chance. Helga's eyes fluttered briefly and her smile disappeared as they closed once again and she went limp.

"We gotta get her outta here!" One paramedic called out from the ambulance where Helga lay resting on the stretched. The other two jumped into the ambulance and closed the doors before peeling out of the parking lot and in the direction of the hospital.

Arnold felt his heart sink. He put his hands to his head and yelled, a painful yell that echoed through the trees. Gerald jogged up alongside him with Phoebe in tow. He'd found her outside when everyone was brought out of the building. One hand clutching Phoebe's, Gerald stood next to Arnold and watched the ambulance disappear around a bend in the road.

Arnold was breathing heavy and his pupils were dilated. His hair was tousled from running his shaking hands through it. Gerald put a hand on his shoulder. "Want me to give you a ride, Arnold?"

His best friend only nodded and they hurried to Gerald's car. Phoebe took the passenger seat as Arnold climbed into the back. On the way there, Phoebe cried quietly and Gerald held her hand in his, affectionately rubbing his thumb across the top of her hand. Arnold stared hard out the window, trying to keep himself from totally losing it. He was normally so calm and collected but Helga did something to him. She awakened a passionate side of him that he wasn't aware he really had until he opened his eyes to her. Somewhere along the line, she'd changed him. Like she'd found some place in his heart and nestled inside, making it hers. If only she knew. He had to get to her. He had to tell her. And she had to live. If she didn't… well, Arnold didn't want to think about that…

Gerald pulled up outside the emergency room doors and let Arnold and Phoebe out while he went to park the car. The two of them bolted through the sliding glass doors and up to the front desk.

"Is Helga Pataki here? She would have been arriving by ambulance," Phoebe questioned.

"The gunshot? Yes, follow Nurse Wilson," The receptionist motioned to a man in sea-green scrubs who gestured for them to follow.

_The gunshot? How freaking callous can you get? _Arnold snarled in his mind but quickly shook his anger as he jogged with Phoebe behind the nurse.

He led them through the back of the emergency room to an area lined with temporary rooms, sectioned off by curtains. One curtain was open and Arnold could see Helga lying on the stretcher she'd been brought in on. Her eyes were closed and she was hooked up to a couple monitors with two doctors and the paramedics surrounding her. The situation seemed to be under control as the faces of the medical personnel were no longer etched with an urgent sense of apprehension. Instead, they looked determined and somewhat relieved compared to how Arnold had seen them a short time ago.

The nurse led Arnold and Phoebe into a small waiting area and told them they needed to stay there. One of Helga's doctors would come let them know when they could visit with her.

At that moment, Gerald rounded the corner and came into the waiting area, breathless.

"Sorry I took so long," He sat down next to Phoebe as the nurse made his exit. "Parking was ridiculous. How is she?"

"She appears stable," Phoebe said in a quiet, even tone. "We have to wait to see her,"

Arnold plucked at a loose string from the end of his sleeve.

"How you doin', buddy?" Gerald turned to his best friend.

Arnold shrugged and let out a slow, deep breath. Gerald nodded, knowing Arnold needed to be in his own head right now.

Waiting was agonizing. Arnold watched the clock as the seconds passed and the hands slowly moved around its face. Voices echoed from the hallway, somewhere monitors beeped and buzzed and the distant smell of bleach and bland hospital food irritated Arnold's nose. Fifteen minutes passed and the small room was quiet with only the three of them in there. Phoebe nuzzled into Gerald's embrace as he rested his chin atop her head, cherishing each moment like he never had before. Arnold pulled a restless foot up to his opposing knee as it shook, furiously trying to relieve the tension that was seizing him.

He replayed the events of the day in his mind and couldn't believe how in mere minutes, everything had changed. He knew he couldn't play around with time anymore. He couldn't waste another moment of it because in one fell-swoop it could be gone. There were still so many unanswered questions about the lockdown at school but for now, Arnold's primary focus was on Helga's state. He hadn't even considered calling his grandparents to let them know where he was and that he was alright.

Arnold sat up straight and ran both hands through his unruly blond hair before standing up and crossing over to the other side of the room.

"Arnold?" Gerald lifted his head from Phoebe's.

"I'm calling Grandpa," he responded without turning around.

"I really hope she's okay," Phoebe whispered softly and when Gerald looked down at her, he could see tears brimming in her eyes behind her glasses.

"She will be," He rubbed her back. "She might have chilled out over the years but she's still a hell of a fighter. You know that,"

Phoebe nodded and pushed a few stray locks from her face.

Arnold came back over to his seat without a word and sat down, stuffing his cell phone back into his pocket.

"You good?" Gerald asked.

"Yeah… I was just letting them know what was going on,"

After an hour or so had passed, the stillness of the room was broken when one of Helga's doctors came in.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Phillips. You're all here for Ms. Pataki?" He put a hand out as the three of them stood up and took turns shaking his hand. "Please, follow me,"

He led them back through the hospital corridors and past the room Arnold and Phoebe had seen Helga in only a little while earlier. They took an elevator up two floors and each second that passed seemed all the more agonizing. He finally led them to a recovery room on the third floor right next to the nurse's station. Inside, Helga was lying on a hospital bed, still asleep but with a hospital gown on and her belongings on a table across from the bed. Outside, the sun shone in through the window on what would, on any other occasion, be a beautiful day.

"She was very lucky," Dr. Phillips said as the three of them slowly circled around Helga's bed. "The bullet just barely missed her femoral artery. If that had been hit, she could have bled out in minutes. The wound was also lower on her thigh which made the use of that tourniquet more effective,"

Phoebe stepped closer to Helga's bedside and took her hand, relieved at this bit of good news. Gerald came up behind her and put an arm around her while Arnold went to the other side and gripped the bed rails, staring hard at the bed itself and doing everything in his power not to look at Helga for fear of breaking down.

"We removed the bullet from her leg and stitched her up," Dr. Phillips continued. "She'll need quite a bit of time to heal but I'm confident she'll eventually make a full recovery. Would any of you happen to know how we can get in touch with her parents?"

"I'll call them," Phoebe offered.

Arnold scoffed, muttering under his breath. "Good luck,"

"Pardon?" Dr. Phillips' face contorted in confusion.

"Nothing, nevermind," Arnold shook his head and his once furrowed brow softened.

Dr. Phillips nodded and told them he'd be back shortly. If they had any questions they could ask someone at the nurse's station for assistance or to page him. He closed the door behind him and left the teens in silence.

Gerald's phone started to buzz in his pocket and he pulled it out to check. "It's Harold. I'm gonna step out for a second and see what's going on with him," He turned to Phoebe, then Arnold. "You guys gonna be okay?"

"Yeah,"

"We're fine, go ahead," Phoebe affectionately gripped his hand then nodded toward the door.

Arnold finally found the nerve to bring his gaze up to Helga's feet and was amazed by how immediately he felt his knees could buckle. He rubbed his face and furrowed his brow, trying to focus on keeping somewhat calm.

Phoebe pulled a chair over to the bedside and sat down next to Helga, surveying her friend's condition. Her blonde hair was strewn across the pillow and two tiny breathing tubes were in her nose.

Arnold watched as her chest rose and fell with each breath and thought to himself how she could pass for an angel right now with her radiant, golden hair surrounding her like a halo. His mind swirled with thoughts of what could have been and how the situation could have played out and he vowed to himself he would tell Helga how he felt as soon as she woke up.

You never really realize what you have or what's right in front of you until it's almost ripped away, in the blink of an eye.


End file.
